


The Music Is Sweet, the Words Are True

by Tabithian



Series: Soft as the Starlight in the Sky [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magical Girls, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 20:32:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5798947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are times Mr. Meowface will give Jason these <i>looks</i>. Usually whenever they run into something new and exciting in the weird kind of way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Music Is Sweet, the Words Are True

**Author's Note:**

> Rogu3p1rate26 asked for more in this AU using the letter K (on the edge of consciousness) from the alphabet prompts way back in Deccember. :D?

There are times Mr. Meowface will give Jason these _looks_. Usually whenever they run into something new and exciting in the weird kind of way.

Like now, with these venom-spitting assholes they had to clear off a garbage scow in the middle of the night.

And, yes. 

The fact that these little creatures spit these disgusting gobs of venom as a method of attack had been a little unexpected, but.

_Gotham._

Also, Jason's already had to deal with shadow-guys and lizard-things that spit corrosive acid, so there was part of him that was expecting something along these lines. 

“I know you know what I used to do before you came along,” Jason says, plopping the stupid cat on the dock before hauling himself up. “I mean, look at what those other idiots deal with _now_.”

If possible, Gotham's gotten even weirder while Jason's been gone.

All sorts of people popping up with gimmicks and themes trying to stake a claim in the world, little piece of it for themselves and making the kind of impression that sticks in the mind. Makes them memorable, even if it's only as some laughingstock wannabe up against the big dogs like Joker and the others.

So this? Fighting mindless constructs made of shadow and all the bad vibes a place like Gotham has to offer? 

Feels like a Wednesday.

_Hmmph._

Jason rolls his eyes, wiping water off his face and hoping like hell there isn't anything in the damn bay other than Gotham's run-of-the-mill pollution. He doesn't recall any sort of major incident recently, but a lot of what ends up in the water in Gotham tends to linger.

“You used to your lackeys freaking out on you, huh?” 

Mr. Meow face gives him this _look_ , a curious sensation in Jason's mind like he's thinking on it, and shakes himself off, water spraying everywhere. 

“God, really?” 

_None of my previous charges,_ Mr. Meowface says, flicking more water off his tail and directly into Jason's face, _had the kind of history you do._

“Ugh, gross,” Jason splutters, taking a half-hearted swipe at the damn cat who dodges it easily. “You trying to say something?”

Another one of those looks, like Mr. Meowface despairs of Jason, and then he turns his back on Jason and starts grooming himself.

Jason sighs, looking out towards the bright glow of Gotham.

In the scramble to escape, they might have ended up headed in the wrong direction.

“Christ,” Jason mutters. “It's going to be a long night.”

Well, longer, at any rate.

There's a pointed silence from Mr. Meowface, who is so blatantly sulking, Jason can't even.

“Seriously, I need to introduce you to Bruce sometime, The two of you would get along like a house on fire.”

Instant BFFs or just a lot of yelling and things being on fire. Either way, it would be something to see.

********

The sky's starting to lighten by the time Jason and his sulky little partner in magic crime fighting make it back to Tim's.

He ignores the smugness coming from the fuzzball because look, okay. Tim's place is closest, and Jason's just a little too damn tired to want to trek halfway across the city after the night he's had.

Jason gets a little of his own back, though, when he plunks Mr. Meowface in Tim's bathtub and lathers him up with the pet shampoo Tim got for him. Ridiculously expensive and organic everything. Tim had bought it after the two of them kept showing up a little worse for wear, filthy like you wouldn't believe, and so damn done with everything.

So.

Jason gets a nice lather going on and borrows Tim phone to snap a few pictures after he makes a little hat and a truly magnificent beard for Mr. Meowface.

_Must you?_

There's exhaustion coloring Mr. Meowface's words, eyes narrowed as he scowls at Jason.

Jason grins, snaps another picture just for the hell of it.

“Technically no, but this is more fun.”

He laughs at the disgusted little huff from Mr. Meowface as he rinses him off and wraps him up in one of the stupidly plush towels of Tim's. 

Jason can't seem to find the damn heating pad anywhere, and Mr. Meowface is clearly not thrilled with that news, giving Jason this _look_.

“Shut it,” Jason says, pulling one of the spare blanket from the hall closes and making Mr. Meowface a little nest on the couch. “You're not going to freeze to death, just. Deal.”

Cats shouldn't be able to roll their eyes, or okay, shouldn't be able to do so and make it look like such a human gesture, but Mr. Meowface is a magical cat, so whatever.

“Goodnight, you ingrate,” Jason mutters, pausing to scratch the dumb cat behind his ears as he heads off to take his own shower and see if he can sneak into Tim's bed to steal a little body warmth and grab a few hours of sleep.

_Hmmph._

********

The dam venom-spitting things are everywhere now. 

Popping up in all parts of the city and running in groups of three and four. Small, fast, and agile and they have these big black eyes that seem suck the light in, and a jumble of these needle-like teeth that seem to keep them from being able to fully close their mouths.

Mr. Meowface has managed to locate some kind of.

It's.

This crack between worlds, or some bullshit. 

This _wrongness_ in the air in some rundown warehouse where these things are spilling over into Gotham.

Tiny little things, like baby spiders that cover the floor and starting to creep up the walls. The adult venom-spitting creatures are scuttling and scurrying all over the place like keeping guard.

“Wow.”

Jason shoots Tim this look because Tim isn't even supposed to be here. He's supposed to be having a painfully awkward dinner with his parents and Bruce, not this.

“I wonder if this is how Commissioner Gordon feels when it comes to Bruce,” Tim says, and _smirks_.

“Just.” Jason sighs, and looks at Tim who is such a little shit Jason doesn't even understand how the hell he does it. “Please don't get yourself killed pulling some stupid shit,okay? Think of my delicate fucking heart.”

“No, seriously,” Tim says, like they don't stand a very real chance of dying horribly here. “He keeps giving me these looks, you know? The kind you give me when Dick's in that intense family bonding kind of mood?”

(Tired, defeated, kind of why the hell is this happening to him, because Dick is this unstoppable force when he gets that look in his eye, and there's no escaping it. Even Bruce gives in.)

Jason looks at Tim, who's smirking at him even though they're battling these vicious little shadow creatures that spit venom and are trying their damnedest to kill them really, really dead. Tim, who is as insane as anyone else in Jason's family, and how the hell Jason's missed that little fact before, he has no idea. _Tim_ , who is so unbelievably stubborn it makes Jason crazy, because holy shit, this is not what Jason wants to do, okay?

The last thing, the absolute last thing he wants is to drag this stupid, stubborn little shit into danger with him because Gordon's twigged to the fact Red Hood trusts Tim the way Bruce trusts Gordon. Hell, the old goat is probably so fucking relieved that he doesn't have to deal with this shit on top of whatever Bruce brings down on him.

“You don't have the facial hair,” Jason says, voice faltering at the look Tim gets on his face at that.

Stubborn, mulish, all the things that means Tim is the kind of person who'd take that as a personal challenge because he's an idiot that way.

“Not yet,” Tim says, proving Jason right by sounding like Jason's fucking _daring_ him. “But I'm catching up with the gray hair.”

Tim's in his _twenties._

“Bullshit.”

Tim gives Jason this look, and leans around Jason to snap off a few shots at the little bastards trying to sneak up on them.

It doesn't kill them, stings, maybe. Startles the hell out of them each time like they can't figure out what's going on. They just kind of. Fade out of the world, like smoke, to reappear a few yards back chittering to themselves before making another try for them.

“Yeah, I dye it,” Tim says, when he drops back down next to Jason, shoulders bumping. “You didn't notice?”

Jason's looking at Tim, like - 

Fuck, he doesn't _know_.

“Lies.”

Tim snorts, leaning over to snag a fresh magazine off Jason. Hands getting all kind of familiar with Jason's person as he pats him down trying to find where Jason's got one stashed in his stupid suit with all the ribbons and bows, that makes Jason hold so very still.

And.

Pretty much from the start the whole concept of personal space didn't exist between the two of them, Jason hellbent on getting Tim to stop holding back when it came to human contact. 

Saw the look Tim would get on his face when Dick was around, when he'd grab Jason up in one of his hugs, or ruffled his hair. The look on Tim's face when Dick went after him because Dick saw it too, all wide eyes and this kind of surprise that hurt to see, like he didn't know what to do.

So, yeah.

Jason worked on that, and so did Dick, to get Tim to stop looking so damn shocked that people liked him enough to want to hug him, or you know. Show affection for the little shit.

Tim though, being Tim.

Always kind of hesitant around Dick, because talk about idol worship, but with Jason it's like he doesn't even think about it. 

Just pushes into his space and sprawls, takes it over, like a damn cat.

They used to get odd looks from Bruce, when he found them curled up together on a couch watching a movie in the middle of the night because one thing or another wouldn't let them sleep. Dick used to ambush them, take all these pictures and threatening to show them to the Titans, cooing over his precious little brothers. Barbara getting this soft look on her face when she saw them like that, Alfred making this little contented humming noise, like all was right in his world.

Only.

That thing where Tim got _hot_ , and it's not like Jason forgets because how the hell could he? But there are times where it hits Jason hard that Tim still does that after everything.

Pushes into Jason's space like it's normal, natural, like he doesn't realize he's doing it.

Christ, Tim doesn't even blink when Jason climbs into bed with him sometimes, tired and aching, to stave off the cold that seems to have a hold on him after he fights the damn shadow things. 

Grumbles, complains about cold feet and Jason hogging the pillows, but he curls up against him and – it's nice, fucking _great_.

“Jason?”

Mr. Meowface is _laughing_ at Jason, the little bastard, and he's not close enough to see what's happening. Just picking up on the disjointed thoughts in Jason's head.

_How do you humans ever get anything done if you're so oblivious?_

Jason's not, thank you very much.

Knows full well he has all the soft, fuzzy warm feelings for Tim that add up to being stupidly in love with the little shit, and Tim.

God, Jason can see it in Tim, too.

Doesn't really understand why, when Jason's this fucked up mess of a human being, but it's not like Tim would listen to him if Jason listed off all the reasons this – them – is a terrible idea. (Jason sure as hell wouldn't, and Tim's even more stubborn than he is in some ways.)

So it's this _thing_ with them, and sometimes it just hits Jason like this. (Like the way Tim smiles at him, sleepy and soft in the mornings, hair an unholy mess and overall not at all attractive in any way. But the way he'll _smile_.)

 _Touching as this may be,_ Mr. Meowface says, sliding into their hiding spot, tip of his tail singed. _You have work to do._

Jason looks at Tim, who has his concerned face on.

“Be _careful_ ,” Jason stresses, as he takes out his stupid magic wand. Hopes to God Tim will listen to him and not do something insanely stupid and so terrifyingly brave. “Please, Tim.”

Tim's concerned face intensifies, because he's had to deal with Bruce and the others pulling the stupidest, craziest shit for years. Watched them pull sacrifice play after sacrifice play.

He knows what one looks like in the initial stages, even if they're far from being at that point with this little situation.

“Jason - “

“Hey,” Jason says, cocky little grin on his face. “It'll be fine.”

All Jason has to do is fuse the wrongness shut using his powers in a neat little trick he's never done before that Mr. Meowface reassures him even an idiot could manage.

What could possibly go wrong?

********

Jason should really know better by now.

********

Because those little venom-spitting creatures?

Tough little bastards.

Maybe not up to par with the shadow-guys or the lizard-things? But they're tough, mean, and when they realize Jason's an actual threat, turn their attention on him.

Which is great, because it buys Tim some breathing room, but.

There are hundreds of the things and one of Jason, so you know. Not great odds, really.

But Mr. Meowface is in the back of his mind, this steady, burning presence and there's Tim behind him somewhere, This complete moron who should know better, but what do you expect when you look at who he had for role models growing up.

So.

Jason stands in the middle of the warehouse, wand held down at his side. 

He hears Tim's yelling at him, hear Mr. Meowface growling, but he doesn't let them distract him.

Focuses inward, reaching for that little spark of flame Mr. Meowface taught him to find within himself during their training sessions. Wraps himself around it tight and recites the incantation for this little trick Mr. Meowface has been teaching him.

He hears the sound of Tim's gun firing as Tim picks the braver venom-spitters off, buying them a little time. Mr. Meowface in the back of his mind, and Jason.

There's this pause – like an indrawn breath – and then Jason feels his powers respond. This blinding surge of heat and fire that feels like it's being ripped from him, and then _pain_

He feels this spike of concern, fear, from Mr. Meowface and Tim's yelling again, but it's all background noise as darkness spills into the empty spaces left behind by Jason's magic and he feels himself falling.

********

“Jason, you idiot.”

Jason opens his eyes and there's Tim, looking a little beat up, kind of angry, and worried, and did Jason mention angry?

Because yes.

On the plus side of things, Jason seems to have pulled off that little trick well enough to keep them from dying horribly.

Also? The the air doesn't feel tainted anymore

Well, more so than usual for this part of Gotham, anyway.

“Hey, look,” Jason says, tries for a smile. “Not dead. Go us.”

Tim snorts, hands gentle on Jason's face as he brushes little bits of charred venom-spitting creature away – ugh, _gross_.

There's a soft, golden glow in the air.

That crack in the world sealing itself up again, burning itself out of existence helped along by Jason's powers.

Mr. Meowface is pacing nearby somewhere, muttering to himself about idiot humans, strain to his voice Jason's only heard a few times before.

Jason's tired, though, feels himself drifting.

Tired and cold down to his bones because that trick Mr Meowface taught him was for the advanced students, and Jason's more at the intermediate level right now. 

“Tired,” Jason says.

“Yeah,” Tim says. “I'll bet.”

Jason squints up at him.

“You okay?”

Tim gives him this _look_ , all tired and worried and soft as he flicks Jason on the forehead. “I'm fine, you ass, just. Rest, okay? Bruce and the others are on their way to help contain this mess, and just. Everything's fine.”

Thing is, when Tim says it like that, Jason actually believes him.

Still.

“You're sure?”

Tim sighs, and he bends down so he's all Jason can see, like that's different form any other time.

“You're an idiot, Jason,” Tim says, and he sounds so damn exasperated that Jason doesn't realize the little shit's kissing him at first, which. 

It's light, chaste, and tastes like fire and ash and what Jason hopes to God aren't even more little charred bits of the venom-spitter creatures, but probably is.

“Tim?”

Jason's a little more awake now, because _kiss_ and also this _fearworryconcern_ because Tim is making this face and turning his head to the side to spit and that, okay. 

Probably not a good sign, all told.

“I hope those things still aren't venomous,” Tim mutters, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “They aren't, are they?”

Jason opens his mouth to ask Mr. Meowface - please let the answer be no – but Mr. Meowface is laughing at him again.

_Humans._

“Okay, but,” Jason says, a little more awake now with the damn cat laughing at them when - 

_No,_ Mr. Meowface says, long-suffering. _Not when it's been burned out of them._

The _idiots_ hangs in Jason's mind, unspoken but there all the same, along with the relief Mr. Meowface is trying very hard to pretend isn't there.

“We're good,” Jason says, smiling up at Tim. “But just in case, we should probably try that again.”

Tim's looking at Jason like he's an idiot, and yeah, okay, that didn't really make a lot of sense? But then he's smiling back.

“Why don't we do that when you're not about to faint? It might be more fun.”

God, Tim's such a little shit.

“You're kind of an asshole, aren't you?”

Like Jason doesn't know.

“Little bit, yeah,” Tim answers, _smirks_ , “I learned from the best.”

Mr. Meowface makes a disgusted noise, and Jason feels himself smiling.

“That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me.”

Tim _hmms_ , fingers combing through Jason's hair sleep him back down into sleep, because they're safe, and thee others are on their way and really, not the worst day out there.


End file.
